


Saving Face

by wish123



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Inspired by To All The Boys I've Loved Before, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-02
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:54:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27829312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wish123/pseuds/wish123
Summary: Daphne's life gets complicated when a moment of panic creates a public display of affection between her and Harry Potter. Finding a mutually beneficial arrangement, the two embark on a fake relationship - Harry seeking to win back Ginny while Daphne looks to save face with her ex-boyfriend.Inspired by the film, To All The Boys I've Loved Before.
Relationships: Daphne Greengrass/Harry Potter
Comments: 17
Kudos: 105





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Endless thanks to floorcoaster for beta'ing and for being a listening ear as I've worked on this fic.
> 
> Thank you to Lumos Lyra for the beautiful aesthetic!

It was September 1st, and Harry Potter graced the cover of the Daily Prophet alongside recently appointed Minister for Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt. The article announced Harry’s decision to enter the Auror training program. Daphne felt a smile tug at her lips as she watched a head with red hair craning itself into the edge of the photo. Ronald Weasley had also decided to enter the program, a one line mention buried within the article. 

Harry was, unsurprisingly, the face of Shacklebolt’s proclamation that students who fought in the final battle could enter Auror training without their N.E.W.T.s. Other former seventh year students were offered a path into the Ministry, as an alternative to returning to Hogwarts, after the war had disrupted their education. 

As of yesterday, Daphne had decided to accept the offer as well. 

She looked up and saw her father, William Greengrass, across the table surveying his own copy of the Prophet. Her father was farther into the paper. Based on the pages she could see gripped in his hand, he was most likely reading the article on Hogwarts’ reopening. 

To her left was Astoria, who was fixated on the breakfast in front of her. Astoria had greeted their parents upon entry to the dining room and sat gracefully at her place as she did every morning. Daphne didn’t think they had noticed anything off. 

However, Daphne saw through her front. Astoria had yet to acknowledge _her_ presence, whether it was upon her arrival or as she made requests for various items to be passed to her, refusing to even glance in her direction--behavior characteristic of any sixteen-year-old girl who was mad at her sister. 

Despite knowing that Astoria would continue to ignore her, Daphne shot her knowing or intent looks whenever she could. Her sister was put out by the fact that Daphne was choosing not to return to Hogwarts this year with her. 

Astoria excused herself from the table, informing their parents that she needed to ensure that she’d packed everything before they left for King’s Cross. 

Daphne was still staring after her when she heard a strange sound come from her father. She looked back at him quizzically. 

Her father looked towards her, an anxious look on his face. Her mother, Agnes, leaned over to see what had caught his attention before developing her own look of concern. 

“What is it?” She was just about to reach for her own paper to see when her mother spoke.

“Daphne, why don’t you see if your sister needs any help getting ready?” 

Daphne looked over and noted they were looking at the last page - the society section. Despite her parents’ protests, she turned her paper to the last page. It didn’t take her long to find what had unsettled them: a photo of Blaise Zabini cozied up next to some brunette with a connection to the Italian Minister. Her stomach churned as she placed the paper face down on the table. The image sliced through each attempt to push it from her mind. Sitting back, Daphne met her parent’s stares of pity. Abruptly excusing herself, she moved out of the room as quickly as she could go. 

Rebuild and reform had been the focal point of the wizarding world ever since the Battle of Hogwarts. Though her family hadn’t been involved as Death Eaters, neither had they pledged any public allegiance to the winning side. The Greengrasses were simply grateful their family had escaped the war safe and unscathed. Many of the other pureblood families in their social circle couldn’t say the same. 

Everyone was adjusting to a new and changing world. Daphne had expected that her boyfriend of two years, Blaise, would be someone who, in addition to her family, she could count on. 

However, shortly after the war ended, he’d broken up with her. The war had left him thinking a lot about his life and his future, and he felt like he needed to, ‘find himself.’ Of course, in his line of thinking, there was not a way for him to fully do this if he was tied down to someone. The image in the Prophet was simply one instance of many in his ‘journey.’ The abrupt change left a noticeable void; one that she struggled to cope with in the weeks after it happened. She eventually transitioned from wallowing to distraction. Wandering into their conservatory one morning, she began to shadow her mother’s work. Previously, an area of disinterest, she welcomed the comfort and solitude she found from it. 

Astoria had barely left her side in the aftermath of her breakup. They’d made a plan to return to Hogwarts together; Astoria had confided in Daphne about her apprehension of what returning to school would be like after the war. Knowing that Daphne would be with her was reassuring. 

Then, Shacklebolt’s announcement came. Daphne had initially brushed it off; she’d already committed to go back to school. It wasn’t until brunch with Pansy and Tracey that she began to contemplate otherwise. The three friends had gotten together a few weeks before Daphne was set to return. Tracey had chosen to pursue a track through the Ministry and Pansy was looking to open a shop in Diagon. 

“I’m surprised you want to go back. You hated school,” Pansy quipped as she sipped her tea. Daphne couldn’t identify the tug to her conscience when Tracey shared about her upcoming orientation schedule. 

That night, she went home and sorted back through her textbooks, inventorying the classes she’d be retaking. Daphne had been rubbish at most subjects; she hadn’t even gotten a good enough score on her O.W.L.s to get into N.E.W.T. level Potions. 

With September 1st a week away, Daphne sat down with her parents to review materials she’d received from the Ministry. The DMLE had a few entry-level positions in the Herbology Division, which fielded consultations from Aurors whenever there was an intersection on a case. Despite the timing, her parents were supportive of whatever decision she made. 

She chose the Ministry. 

She’d been terrified to tell Astoria but the opportunity was forced upon her when her sister arrived in her room, confused by the pristine state of everything. 

_“Where is your trunk? Have you even started packing?”_

Astoria had been so upset she’d holed herself up in her room and refused to speak with Daphne or come out the rest of the day. 

Resigned, Daphne had returned to her own room, keeping the door ajar in the event that Astoria might change her mind and want to talk. 

She was due to begin her new position a few days after Astoria left. Daphne sat down at her desk and began to fill out the paperwork the Ministry had sent over in preparation for her first day. Halfway through, she ran out of ink, and when she opened her desk drawer to grab a new bottle, she stilled as her eyes drifted over a photo of her and Blaise. It lay atop others from the course of their relationship. She’d already collected the blatant reminders of him and stuffed them all away; however, glancing back at her desk, she noticed a few other trinkets that had been gifts from him that she had been uncertain about keeping. 

Now seemed like as good a time as any to finally purge the remaining memories of him. 

Daphne flicked her wand to Conjure a box. She proceeded to collect the items and photos around from her room to place in it. Moving over to her closet, she walked through the large, open space where her clothes hung against the wall. She sifted through them to find any items that he may have given her. However, Daphne stilled when her eye caught a small, fabric box resting low on an adjacent shoe shelf. After a few moments staring at it in contemplation, she bent down to run her fingers along its edges before popping the clasp open. 

The box contained three letters - ‘love’ letters that she’d written over the years in school in response to pestering crushes that she’d wanted an outlet for. Picking up the letters, Draco Malfoy’s name was written across the one on top. It was third year and her first crush. 

Being in the same house with him had made it a constant distraction. Then, the whole Buckbeak incident happened, and it became glaringly apparent that Daphne was not the only one pining after the blond-haired boy. 

Seeking to prevent the crush from complicating her relationship with Pansy, she wrote the letter as a form of closure and found the fabric box to lock it away in. That was the beginning of her habit. 

Flipping to the next one, her heart stopped for a moment as she looked upon the name: Harry Potter. A familiar weight passed through her. She recalled the anxiety that used to plague her after an afternoon in fourth year that had sent her into a confusing whirl. 

Whatever had possessed Snape and McGonagall to pair Gryffindors and Slytherins for Yule Ball dance lessons was a mystery to her. 

Daphne had been paired with Harry. She’d grown up learning ballroom dancing, and her talent had not been compatible with his novice performance. They danced together both literally and metaphorically. They’d talk over each other accidentally and study the other’s reactions. After all, their pairing had seemed doomed from the start, whether that be due to the animosity between their houses, their differing backgrounds, or most importantly, the fact that her friends constantly bullied him and his friends. 

At the end of it all, despite the awkwardness, she couldn’t deny how incredibly kind Harry was. Of course, he’d stepped on her toes so often that she’d had to soak her feet in a bath that evening. However, he’d nervously muttered an apology each time it happened, and by the end of the long lesson, her face would flush from his attention. 

Her interest lingered despite the fact that they had no further interactions after that occasion. She was plagued by involuntary flutters forming in her stomach whenever they’d have classes together or she’d catch a glimpse of him in the Great Hall. Given their differences, her feelings felt forbidden, and it would have been detrimental if anyone had found out about them. After that letter had made its way into the box, Daphne started using stronger locking spells to make sure no one could get in. 

The last letter was Blaise’s. At the time she’d written it, she’d never imagined that her feelings would be returned. Just a few months later, he would ask her out, and their relationship would come to last years. 

Daphne stood, grasping the letters for a long time. All of them reflected moments that, at the time, had felt important. Did she really need to continue to hang on to them though? This was an opportunity to start fresh. She could either keep them or take the opportunity to purge them along with the items she’d collected. 

A pop disturbed her train of thought. One of the house-elves informing her that her mother needed her. 

Distracted, Daphne placed the letters back into the box and set off to meet her mother. 

* * *

Thankfully, Astoria did not object to Daphne tagging along to the train station but she said nothing to her before stepping onto the Hogwarts Express. At that point, her parents seemed to notice that something was up, but Daphne brushed off their inquiries. While they were close, they were not immune to the occasional sibling fight. 

Daphne was resigned to think that her sister would come around once she got back into a normal routine at school, but until then she’d simply need to wait. 

* * *

Daphne’s first day at the Ministry had gone better than expected. One of her main responsibilities was processing the intake of cases that were referred to their branch. It was surreal being in her first job and no longer a student. She’d been afraid that she would miss the familiar feeling of school, but she found that working was an easy transition and she enjoyed the freedom. 

At the end of the day, she joined the rest of the Ministry personnel as they made their way to the exits to return home. Stepping out of a crowded lift, she made her way through the atrium. She looked down momentarily to adjust something in her bag, and as a result, she was too distracted to notice that someone was walking towards her. By the time she looked up, they had almost collided. As she jumped, she felt an arm lightly on her shoulder to help stabilize her. 

She stared up into green eyes behind round, thick rimmed glasses. She’d almost walked right into Harry Potter. 

“Oh, excuse me,” Daphne said, placing her hand over her heart which was pounding after the surprise. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. I saw you listed in the directory so I thought I might be able to catch you before you left for the day."

Daphne furrowed her brow when she registered Harry’s words. She wasn’t sure what would possess him to track her down. She glanced around and then back to him just to make sure that he wasn’t referring to someone else.

“Were… were you _looking_ for me?”

He nodded and cleared his throat. “Yes. I, uh, got your letter.” 

Her brows furrowed deeper. _A letter?_ She hadn’t written him a letter. 

“Listen, I am flattered,” He held his arm out towards her in what she suspected was a display of earnestness. “I was honestly surprised though, I didn’t realize that moment left such an impression on you. I know I was a terrible dancer… I was really sorry about your feet… of course, you were very kind too--” 

As he spoke, Harry glanced in a new direction as each thought came to him. Daphne’s eyebrows narrowed as she tried to follow along. There was an eerie feeling nagging at her as the exchange progressed. 

“--I just got out of a relationship with Ginny, and I heard that you’re recently single as well. I’m not sure if--”

Daphne lost all brain function when, at that moment, she watched as Harry lifted up an envelope to glance at as he rambled on. She knew _that_ letter. A chill rushed through her veins as she realized what Harry was referring to. As he continued on, his words became increasingly incoherent. That letter had been in her closet only a few days ago, and she couldn’t begin to comprehend how it now resided in Harry Potter’s hand. 

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw one of the incoming fireplaces flare green. To her horror, Blaise stepped out of it. What was he doing here? She hadn’t seen him in months since they broke up. 

Her panic surged as he walked further into the lobby and she saw a familiar envelope in _his_ hand as well. She would bet all of the Galleons in her family’s Gringotts vault that it was the exact letter she thought it was. 

Blaise halted his steps upon noticing that she was standing a few feet away from him. He’d come to seek her out, and there she was. 

A plan--she coached her mind to come up with a plan. 

_Think, think, Daphne._

Talking to Blaise was the last thing she wanted to do, and now she wanted to completely disappear. He held in his hand a letter she’d written at fifteen, full of teenage angst, and he’d probably read it as some desperate plea to get back together. 

It was then that her gaze returned to Harry, who was _still_ standing in front of her rambling away. Now, he seemed to be reciting some nonsense list of all the reasons why it didn’t make sense for him to be getting involved with someone right now. It was a bit pathetic, if not slightly adorable, just how much he’d appeared to rehearse this moment to let her down easy. 

She caught hold of a faint idea. When she glanced briefly over Harry’s shoulder, she saw Blaise had begun walking towards her again--towards _them_. 

Looking back to Harry, she made a split-second decision. Throwing her bag to the ground, Daphne reached up and grabbed the sides of his face in her hands. She registered the surprised confusion in his eyes as she hoisted herself up to smash her lips against his. 

When she opened one eye slightly to peak back in Blaise’s direction, she saw that he had stopped walking, completely flabbergasted by what he was witnessing. 

Daphne moved her lips slightly against Harry’s petrified ones for maximum effect. It wasn’t until she registered sporadic flashes that she remembered that they were in the public, and she had chosen to lock lips with Harry Potter, one of the most famous wizards in history. Of course, that would draw significant attention. If someone had gotten photos, it would surely end up in the Prophet. 

A jolt of panic shot through her, and she detached her lips from his. She whispered a hurried apology to Harry and then scurried past a stunned Blaise and an audience of Ministry personnel that had still been on their way home for the evening. 

She went to the first fireplace that was open and walked straight into the Greengrass Manor, dashing towards her bedroom. When she arrived in her closet, she found her box and upon opening it, her worst nightmare was confirmed. It wasn’t simply some alternative reality or daydream she’d just experienced--it was all real. All of her letters were gone which meant that somehow, they’d been sent. 

She collapsed to the ground and tried to think of how this could have happened. How could they have been sent? Who had entered her room? Who besides herself even knew about them? It was at that moment that she stilled with realization. 

Astoria. 

Her sister was the only person she had ever told about the letters. Astoria must have grabbed them the evening before she’d left for Hogwarts and mailed them in her anger. 

Daphne’s panic began to seep into rage as she picked herself up and headed straight for the owlery to write her sister a vicious howler.


	2. Chapter 2

_Tori,_

~~_How could you mail them?_ ~~

~~_Why would you do this?_ ~~

~~_I trusted you. You were the ONLY person that knew about them!_ ~~

~~_Do you have any idea the mess that's been created?_ ~~

Daphne crumpled another draft of what was intended to be a howler to Astoria. She buried her head in her arms when she couldn’t bring herself to finish any of them. Her sister was an emotional teenager, much like Daphne had been when she wrote those letters. However, unleashing a howler in what would most likely be the middle of the Great Hall would not improve her situation. Letting out a heavy sigh as she sat upright again, she needed to find another way to rebuke her sister for what she’d done. 

Moving to turn in, she muttered a Nox before she submerged herself under the bedding, desperately wishing she could wake up and find it was all a dream. 

The next morning, after she’d finished getting ready and was about to step out of her room, Daphne realized she'd left her bag when she ran from the Ministry. When a last-ditch Accio didn’t produce it, she closed her eyes and chastised herself for yet another act of stupidity. Her mind was brought back to the kiss and the memory of flashing bulbs. 

Of all people that she could have chosen to lock lips with in public, it had to be Harry Potter. The kiss would be plastered all over the Prophet this morning; she was sure of it. Her veins ran cold. 

Her parents would know. There was no way they wouldn't asked her about it. 

As she stood just outside the doorway, she heard nothing but silence. Any normal day, she would walk into the room and find her parents engaged in casual conversation like the weather or the lovely breakfast spread the elves had prepared. Daphne took a moment to breathe and collect herself, but rushed into the dining room as quickly as her feet could carry her. Her parents were seated expectantly; the paper neatly folded in front of them. 

When her eyes met theirs, she immediately blurted out an excuse about needing to be at work early for a meeting. Both of them were attempting to find a moment to insert something but she kept talking nonsense as she grabbed a piece of toast off the table and turned to dash from the room. As she moved out the door and down the hall she could hear her parents call after her. Whether one of them attempted to come after her, she didn't know, as she'd rushed to the fireplace before anyone could catch up with her. 

* * *

She took the visitor entrance into the Ministry. Inquisitive stares and low whispers followed her as she headed towards the lifts and lasted all the way to her desk. Daphne kept her eyes averted as best she could and tried to remain relaxed. She finally took a few brief glances around the room, only to find various colleagues suddenly divert their attention elsewhere. 

For the first few hours of her day, Daphne kept her head down and remained focused on her work. When she heard the sound of footsteps approach her desk, her stomach churned. Her quill stilled when they stopped in front of her. She raised her head slightly and landed on a pair of expensive dragonhide shoes. 

The tensity in her shoulders gave a bit when it dawned on her who her visitor was. 

Draco Malfoy stood before her; an amused smirk on his face. He raised his arm to reveal her letter pinched between his fingers. 

He tilted his head to the side. “Need a break?” 

With a nod, she rose and led him towards a break room that was usually unoccupied. 

Draco and Daphne had been friends for a long time. He was currently working at the Ministry as part of a condition of his probation. As much as it could have been tempting to feel mortified knowing that he had been a recipient of one of her letters, she held little concern or embarrassment over it. She cringed as she recalled writing his letter and hoped it would be obvious that it had been written by a naive thirteen-year-old. It was probably riddled with the horrendous prose to prove it. All she had to be concerned about was Draco never letting her live it down. 

They entered the empty break room and she cast a silencing charm so they couldn’t be overhead. Daphne seated herself at one of the tables in the room, rubbing her hand across her forehead. 

“Draco-” 

“I have to admit, I was a bit surprised when I received your owl. Your penmanship is usually less...childlike.” He set the letter in front of her on the table.

Despite the relief she felt, another flush of embarrassment washed over her when she laid eyes on it again; her handwriting was far more cringeworthy at this moment than it had been just a few days before when the letters were still a secret. “Draco, you have no idea how embarrassing this is. I’m a grown woman and these are letters that I wrote years ago!”

“You wrote more than one?” She could hear him choke back a laugh. “Well, now I don’t feel special.” 

“There were only three," she clarified.

“And why would you owl them after all this time?”

“I didn’t.” Daphne immediately snapped back. “They weren’t ever supposed to be sent. Astoria got angry at me and she stole them and sent them.” 

She watched as Draco shrugged his shoulders. “Look, I don’t know who the other two lucky recipients were, but if they were anything like mine, you shouldn’t have anything to worry about. It was immediately apparent that something was amiss about it.” 

She shook her head, knowing the other two were far more complicated than he understood. 

“Although," Draco drawled. "You were spot on when you described my eyes as a piercing shade of grey.” 

_Git._

Daphne felt a simmer in her veins. "Cut it out...one of them went to Blaise. I’m sure he’ll say something to you.” She stood and began to pace as additional implications started to spiral in her mind. “I probably look pathetic. He’ll think that I’m not over our break up.” 

“I wouldn’t get your knickers in a twist over this. I already told you it threw up a red flag when I got it. When did you write it?”

“Yours was third year, but the other two were later and I'm sure they'll read that way.” 

Silence passed between the two of them; Draco didn't offer anything else and she knew she kept squashing his efforts to reassure her.

The rustling of paper caught her attention. Draco pulled the Prophet out from his robe, extending it towards her. She snatched it from his hands and her heart dropped in free fall at the front page.

A prime shot of her kissing Harry was under the headline, ‘ _Harry Potter’s New Love?_ ’ Thankfully, Blaise was not present in the background of the photo. At least that meant she’d avoided what would have been a completely different feature story. 

“How did you get Potter involved in all of this?” 

Daphne bit her bottom lip in embarrassment. She had to remind herself that the war was over and her secret didn't hold the same weight it used to. However, Draco was quick to connect the dots in her hesitancy. 

“No…” He looked shell shocked. “You wrote a letter to Potter?!” 

She rubbed the bridge of her nose, feeling a headache coming on. When she looked back at him, she could see he was still shaking his head in disbelief. “And what’s your plan for damage control with Potter?” 

“I have no idea. I haven’t run into him yet and I’m not looking to seek him out.” 

“But you do realize that you’ll have to do something? This is Harry Potter that you so inconveniently chose to snog in the middle of a public setting. It’s in the Prophet--everyone knows. It’s not something that you can just sweep under a rug as if it never happened. The entire wizarding world is going to speculate until given an explanation.” 

“Yes, alright, I don’t need you to emphasize how much I’ve screwed up. I’ll make a point to track him down soon.” 

Daphne turned to get ready to leave and return to her desk. She had her hand on the handle of the door when she turned back to Draco. 

“ _Has_ Blaise said anything to you?” 

He shook his head. “Not yet.” 

“You’ll let me know if he does?” 

Draco nodded and she opened the door to return to her work. Despite what she relayed to him, she didn't feel ready yet to go seek out Harry. Maybe she would luck out and Harry would seek her out first. 

* * *

Daphne arrived home late in the evening after having stayed late at work, hoping to avoid the rush of employees leaving for the day. 

With a pop, one of their house-elves, Wodby, appeared in front of her. “Miss...your parents have requested your presence downstairs. Master and Mistress have a guest here to see you.” 

“A guest? For me?” 

The little elf nodded in affirmation. “Yes, in the parlor.” 

Concern rose in Daphne and her pace quickened down the hall. As she neared the room, the sound of voices grew louder. She registered her parents, but the third, muffled voice wasn’t one that she could immediately place though it felt familiar. 

Her feet stilled as she laid eyes on the back of a head with scruffy, jet black hair. Her jaw dropped open and it felt like her heart had ceased beating. She watched in shock as her parents appeared completely enraptured listening to the man in front of them. 

“Ah, Daphne, you’re home." Her mother's voice sing-songed. "You should have told us that you’d be running late this evening.” 

When Harry turned in his chair to look back towards her, he had the same look of enjoyment she’d witnessed on her parents’ faces. She had no idea what she had just walked into and that scared her more than anything. 

“It’s alright, Mrs. Greengrass," Harry spoke. "I didn’t tell Daphne that I was planning on dropping by.” 

“Daphne, don’t just stand there. Come join us.” Her father prodded as he took another sip of his tea. 

She crossed apprehensively in front of Harry to the chair next to his. Glancing as discreetly as possible towards him, she noted that Harry was refusing to make eye contact with her, suddenly enchanted by the cup in his hands. 

Internally on guard, Daphne proceeded to summon her own cup. She didn't want to jump to any assumptions regarding what conversation had occurred in her absence, lest she again make a fool of herself. 

Her mother eventually continued the conversation. “Harry, here, decided to drop by this evening to apologize to us.” 

Daphne quirked an eyebrow, looking again at him in hopes of an explanation. _She_ was the one that inappropriately grabbed and snogged him in public. _She_ was the one who’s hasty actions in a moment’s panic landed them on the Prophet’s front page to everyone’s embarrassment. She didn’t know what reason Harry would have to apologize to her parents. "An apology?"

“Yes," her mother affirmed. "He told us it was his idea not to tell anyone that the two of you were seeing each other…” 

Her hands went limp from the shock of her mother’s words. The cup slipped and shattered on the ground, which caused everyone to jump slightly. Her mother admonished her before casting a spell to repair the damage, returning it to Daphne’s hands and summoning the pot to fill her empty cup. 

“What-?” Her voice nearly shrieked when Harry quickly piped up. 

“Yes, and I told them how you’d grown rather impatient with me the other day over it.” 

Daphne stared over at him dumbfounded. She couldn’t fathom what motivation he currently had to arrive at her home and tell this outrageous lie to her parents. Surely, they wouldn’t believe that she would ever act that way publicly? She turned back to them only to find her mother with some pathetic lovesick look on her face and her father not appearing to register any red flags about the whole situation. She couldn't stop the scoff of disbelief that left her. 

“We hope you’re not upset with him, dear," her mother pouted. "It’s lovely that the two of you are seeing each other. Especially, seeing as you’ve had such a difficult time getting over Blaise-”

“Let’s not talk about that, please,” Daphne inserted, cringing as she heard a touch of desperation in her voice. She glanced towards Harry, mortified by the progression of the conversation. As she watched him sit there, the question resurfaced as to what made him come here and tell her parents they were dating. Before yesterday, they hadn't spoken a word to each other since the day that inspired the letter. 

“So, Harry," Daphne pivoted. "Did you tell them how long we’ve been _seeing_ each other?” 

“I, uh, hadn’t gotten that far…” He spoke into his tea. 

Before she could continue, her father spoke up. “Harry and I had just been talking about Quidditch before you came home. Seems that we’re both fans of Puddlemere United. I told him we had box seats. Harry, you should join me at the next match as my guest.” She refused to take her eyes off of Harry as he comfortably resumed talking with her father. However, he would reach up to adjust his tie whenever her father prodded him to commit to a match. Daphne hoped that meant he understood that her compliance with this charade was time-limited. 

“It’s getting late." Daphne finally got in during a break in their discussion. "As much as I’m glad that you've all been able to meet, I'd love a few moments with Harry to show him some highlights of the house before he needs to leave."

“Daphne, I’m not sure that would be appropriate...” Her mother protested to her embarrassment. She felt her face twist involuntarily as she set down her cup. 

“Oh, Agnes," Her father spoke. "You remember what we were like at this age. I’m sure that they can be responsible-” 

“The grounds, then!” Daphne clapped her hands together and stood abruptly. She gestured for Harry to follow her. As she walked out, she heard her father mumble something about the grounds hardly being any more appropriate. She groaned as her face flushed. She walked briskly outside, not saying a word to Harry but she knew from the sound of his footfall that he was following. 

She spun around to confront him and he almost stumbled back when she’d unexpectedly halted. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” It was a pointed whisper despite being out of earshot from the house. 

“You forgot your bag. I dropped it off with your parents," Harry replied calmly. 

She let out a sigh of relief knowing that it had been returned, which she tried not to let it distract her. Her bag was a perfectly logical reason for him to drop by but that did nothing to explain anything else that she had experienced this evening. "Thank you for returning it but how did that lead to my parents being under the impression that we're dating?"

"Well..." Harry started hesitantly. "Isn't that what you wanted people to think?" 

Daphne felt sick at his question; he was serious. "You...I...No..." She pinched the bridge of her nose, at a loss for what to say to the fact that this was his impression of the events that had transpired. "I didn't-"

He must have caught on that she struggling because he spoke up again. "I saw your ex the other day...after you left." A beat passed as he appeared to be collecting his own words. "I got your letter and then you kissed me even after I'd tried to let you down easy." She restrained a reaction as she recalled his speech. "And then you ran, which I found confusing. But I turned around and saw Blaise standing there, looking put out. The more I thought about the letter after, something about it seemed off and so I thought-" 

"You thought I was using you?" She felt terrible as she listened to Harry's misinterpretation of the situation. It was hard to believe that he was so gracious with her after even coming to such a conclusion. He opened his mouth to speak again, but she knew that she needed to clear things up immediately. 

"Harry, listen. You should have never gotten that letter. I wrote it in our fourth year--that's why it seemed off. It was simply in response to a fleeting crush at that time. I’m sorry I kissed you. It was incredibly inappropriate of me." Daphne was rushing out each thought as it came to her. "I didn't do it to use you but I did panic when I saw Blaise show up. He actually got a letter as well, and I didn’t want him getting the wrong idea about it. I wasn’t thinking about the repercussions of the fact that you're--well, _you_ …All of this mess is my fault and I'm so sorry you got dragged into it. I can clear things up with my parents. I'll do whatever you need me to in order to clear things up as far as the public-"

"No, don't," Harry quickly interrupted and her eyes widened. “Listen, my intentions were not exactly as noble as returning your bag or playing along with things.”

A few silent beats passed between them. Her eyes narrowed, confused exactly by what he wanted from her at this point. 

Harry rubbed the back of his neck. “Can we sit?” He gestured towards a bench near them. 

Once they were seated, she waited for him to continue. 

“I’m not quite in the exact same situation, but I have my own relationship problems.”

“I don’t have relationship problems." Daphne felt compelled to clarify. 

“Alright, hear me out though. I'm sure you know that I was dating Ginny Weasley. She and I broke up just before everything happened with Voldemort. I thought that we might reconnect after everything was over but she wasn’t ready to. She wanted to return to Hogwarts and wanted to see where things landed when she finished. I haven’t had much hope. She barely spoke to me before she left for school and hadn’t made any attempts to return my owls since she left. Then, with our-- _exchange_ \--she suddenly wrote to me.” 

Daphne gave a slow nod but she was sure her face still reflected her confusion, still not certain on Harry's point. 

"There was nothing blatant that she wants to start things up again, but now she thinks that you and I might be seeing each other and I can tell she's jealous." Harry readjusted against the bench. "I wondered if you might help me because I think if she believes I might be moving on, she might change her mind about us." 

The pieces started connecting for her. What Harry said at least explained why he didn't appear angry when he was under the impression that she had orchestrated the kiss. Before he'd come this evening, he must have thought they had similar motives. She looked away from him, contemplating. “So you want to appear to date me in public, while trying to win back your ex-girlfriend?”

She could see his face flush at her clarification. He opened his mouth before closing it again and with a heavy swallow, he nodded in confirmation. 

As she reflected on it, she could see the mutual benefit of the arrangement for both of them. She could save face with her ex and he can win back his. 

“Give me the evening to think about it and I'll give you my answer tomorrow.”

"Thank you," Harry responded genuinely, his eyes brightening with hope. 

She raised her finger to him, determined to not let him off the hook for this evening. “But you promise to tell no one else anything about the status of our relationship, fake or not. We should have had this conversation before you said anything to my parents.”

“Promise." He quickly replied. "I apologize for that.” 

When Daphne felt as though Harry had answered most of her initial questions about the proposed arrangement, the pair rose from the bench and she escorted him back into the house. She agreed to owl him her response since it would be the weekend.

They found her parents, who had not yet retired for the evening, situated oddly amidst the sculptures and paintings that lined the hallway. They appeared to be...discussing them. “Daphne, there you are!" She cringed at her mother's poor attempt at a cover-up. "Your father and I were just surveying the quality of the portraits. I think some of them may need some minor restorations.” 

“Yes, dear, I couldn't agree more," her father nodded along as he scanned his eyes across the wall. 

Daphne rolled her eyes at them. The care of the portraits had been left up to the house elves for centuries. Harry appeared to cough in an attempt to cover up a laugh and in his recovery was biting back a smile. 

“I’m going to see Harry out now.” He followed her back to the entrance where she saw him off for the evening. As she turned back around her parents were once again lurking. This time with mirrored looks of delight on their faces. 

“Oh, I think this is absolutely wonderful, Daphne.” Her mother moved forward and enveloped her into a hug and she awkwardly returned it. She looked over at her father, who actually _winked_ at her. Her eyes widened, appalled by the gesture. She shut her eyes tightly, horrified by what she had potentially just signed up for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to iforgottocall for helping me with edits! 
> 
> I appreciate every kudo, comment, subscribe, and bookmark - thank you! I hope you enjoyed the update!


	3. Chapter 3

The following morning, Daphne’s eyelids were heavy and she couldn’t help the yawn that escaped as she sat down for breakfast with her parents. Deciding whether or not to accept Harry’s proposal had weighed heavily on her. She’d tossed and turned through most of the night. She tried to lull herself to sleep with reminders that the decision didn’t need to be made that very moment. However, her mind refused to be convinced. She thought through the advantages and disadvantages of engaging in a fake relationship. If she allowed herself to wander too long on any point in particular she’d start to slightly catastrophize the ‘what if’ scenarios. 

At one point, when she’d realized their arrangement might mean further intimacy between the two of them, a fresh wave of anxiety hit her and she knew sleep would be all but impossible to achieve. Thankfully, it was the weekend and she would not have to drag herself through a day of work while she felt so fatigued. Around the time that light began to seep through her curtains, she’d decided to go ahead with it. Thanks to her misstep, the entirety of the wizarding world already believed there was something going on between the two of them. While her initial motivation may have been to simply save face with Blaise, the stakes were much higher and Harry’s offer was a reasonable way forward for both of them. 

After breakfast, she made her way to their small owlery, penning an acceptance note to Harry but requested that they meet soon to discuss the specifics of their faux relationship. His reply came just a few hours later, asking that she meet him at a Muggle location. 

_ Magnolia Road, Little Whinging, Surrey.  _

When Daphne arrived the next day, she was uncertain if she’d arrived at the correct place. In front of her was a small play park. Frowning, she reached for his letter to check the address again. Having arrived early, she decided to go ahead and wait to see if Harry showed up. She took a few steps towards a bench, before giving in to the nostalgic appeal of the swings. 

Her feet still touching the ground, she slowly drew her legs forward and back. The light sway did wonders to calm some of the anxiety she’d been feeling over the last few days. A smile pulled at her lips as she began to appreciate that he chose this as their meeting spot. 

Right on the hour, he arrived. Exchanging polite greetings, Harry sat down in the swing next to her, unphased by her seating choice. 

“Why did you choose this place?” Daphne couldn’t help but ask as her curiosity got the better of her. 

“I grew up in Little Whinging. My aunt and uncle’s house is not far from here. It wasn’t always...pleasant there, so I used to go on frequent walks here when I wanted to get out of the house.” 

Daphne could hear hesitancy in Harry’s voice as he chose his words. She’d heard whispers about his upbringing but those rumors could be inconsistent, as well as contradictory, so it was always hard to know what information was real and what wasn’t. However, she could imagine with him being in the constant eye of the magical world that he might still need opportunities to escape. “Do you still visit here on occasion then?” 

Harry shook his head. “Oh, no. I haven’t been here in years. I chose it because I figured we’d have privacy.”

Daphne nodded. She dropped her hands from the chains to smooth out non-existent wrinkles in her skirt. With a flash of a small smile, she looked over at him. “My parents were very taken with you last night.” 

Harry grinned wide. “I liked them. I wasn’t expecting them to be so welcoming.” 

“Well, they absolutely believed all of it. Perhaps it’s because you’re the Boy Who Lived. What girl’s family wouldn’t want you showing up saying that you’re dating their daughter?” Daphne replied, her light teasing surprising herself.

Harry laughed looking towards his feet, grasping his pant legs. “I can think of several actually.” 

Daphne could tell that despite the fact she knew he was serious, his response was meant to be taken lightly. She relaxed as she felt a tension release in her body. It was a relief that they could be comfortable with each other. “I think the vast majority would have reacted the same way that my parents did. As you probably also caught, they’re also overjoyed that I’ve started someone else,” Daphne paused a moment before continuing, “Did everyone believe it on your end? Your friends?”

“I had an influx of letters: Hermione, Ron, and Ron’s mum, Molly Weasley. They were all shocked, but only Hermione was doubtful at first. Ron assumed I kept it from him because of Ginny. Hermione didn’t believe I would have hid something like that from her. They both were hopeful things would work out with me and Ginny. I wrote them back after your letter and told them that it was true. Mrs. Weasley was similar but she was more receptive and accepting of the news.” 

“And how did it feel being untruthful with them?” 

Harry released a heavy breath before turning to meet her gaze. “You like to ask the hard questions, don't you?” Again, she could tell his intention was light-hearted, but they both knew the question was indicative of what they’d signed up for. “It feels terrible but if, in the end, it’s a path to get back together with Ginny, I think that’s perhaps all that would matter to them.”

“I’m a bit surprised.” Daphne replied. “I really thought you might be tempted to confide in one of them.” 

“Ron wouldn’t make sense, given that Ginny is his sister. Hermione...she’d be nonstop on my case for the ruse. Plus, it’d be unfair to put her in that position since she’s with Ginny at school.” Harry’s reply told her that he’d seemed to have thought through his options for whether he could confide in one of them. After a moment of silence passed between the two of them, Harry turned the question back to her. “You haven’t told anyone, have you?” His voice didn’t seem concerned that she had. 

Daphne opened her mouth to unconsciously reply with a ‘no,’ before it hit her that it wasn’t true. “Uhh, actually…”

Harry’s eyes widened. “You told someone?” 

“Not exactly…” Daphne looked away from him, and reached up to brush her hair behind her ears. “It was more really bad timing…” 

“Who knows?” Harry asked, insistent. 

She bit her lip, and her eyes closed tight. Of all people who knew...Harry was not going to react well. 

“Draco knows,” she squeaked. 

“Draco Malfoy?” 

She knew the question was rhetorical and out of shock. What other Draco did either of them know?

“There’s no way that he’s going to keep this a secret.” Harry sounded panicked. “Not if I’m involved.”

Daphne turned to Harry who was now burying his head in his hands. “He would,” she insisted. “The day after it was in the paper, Draco approached me and he’d already deduced that there was no way we were actually seeing each other. How was I supposed to know that you’d run off and want to tell the world that we were? He’s one of my closest friends. Even if you are involved, he won’t tell because it involves me.” When Harry didn’t seem to be appeased, she internally weighed what else might help. Then it dawned on her. “I also may have written him a letter…” 

At that development, he poked his head back up. “Malfoy? Just who all did you write letters to?”

Daphne wanted to bury her own head, she was getting tired of answering this question. “Calm down. It was only Draco, you and Blaise. I didn’t write letters to every boy at Hogwarts or anything.” 

Harry was quiet, clearly processing. She waited patiently until he spoke again. “You realize, if he tells--”

“He won’t.”

Her and Harry went back and forth a few more times before she was able to momentarily reassure him that everything would be fine. After, they moved on to discussing the logistics of how their relationship would work. 

“What do you think our backstory should be?” Daphne asked. “My parents haven’t asked yet but it will only be a matter of time before they do.” 

“We should talk about that. My friends were asking how all of this happened.” 

“Probably too early to say that we met at work, wouldn’t it be?” Daphne asked skeptically. 

Harry perked up though. “You work in the DMLE, right? When I looked you up, your office was down the hall from me.” 

Daphne nodded, “Yes, I took a late interest in Herbology, so I joined that division. We aren’t far from each other. I suppose that might help with the charade, we’d be close enough to at least briefly interact with each other,” she reasoned. “But I haven’t the slightest clue what to tell people about how we met.” 

Silence fell upon both of them again as they each contemplated a way that would make sense. 

Daphne thought back to the Prophet photo on September 1st. Harry had been connected to the project even before announcing that he would be entering the Auror training program. Earlier in the summer, when Kingsley first announced the program, Harry had been quoted in that article in support of the initiative. It hit her. 

“I have it!” Daphne looked over at Harry who jumped slightly at her proclamation. 

“You’ve been attached to the Ministry project since the beginning. I hadn’t really considered the program at first. I was planning to return to school. Maybe we could say that we connected through that. I sought you out--wrote you--whatever we want to say, to inquire about the program and if I should pursue it.”

Daphne watched as Harry’s eyes brightened and his head bobbed in agreement as she walked through it. He picked up where she left off.

“I like it! We could say that we started growing closer as we got to know each other. We kept writing to each other or found that we kept wanting to meet with each other. We did this discreetly of course since we both had reason to so closely after the end of the war. We wanted to be sensitive…”

“My parents weren’t Death Eaters,” Daphne clipped. It brought an abrupt stall to their brainstorming. 

Harry’s eyes went wide. Daphne didn’t want their conversation to get sidetracked by this but she couldn’t help the chill that ran through her veins when he went in that direction. Daphne cleared her throat to reset. “If it comes up, we could recognize that we didn’t want to distract from rebuilding and post-war efforts, but otherwise, I think that we can just stick to the romance, yes?”

She could see Harry swallow. He nodded. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to suggest--I shouldn’t have assumed.” 

“It’s fine. Let’s get back to the conversation, yes?”

Daphne and Harry continued to dialogue back and forth about the details of their relationship, how specifically they had gotten to know each other and at what point they had decided to start dating.

Eventually, they started discussing some of the basic aspects of their backgrounds. Information that they should already know if they’d been dating. As their conversation progressed, the mood recovered from their earlier tense exchange. In fact, she began to recall the initial charm that Harry held fourth year when she was even inspired to write the letter. He was funny and made her laugh as he relayed a few stories about him, Ron, and Hermione from when they were at Hogwarts. 

They also discussed what their public image might be in order to keep up the appearance of their arrangement. They agreed to weekly dates in public, regular lunches at work depending on their availability, and they’d agreed to depart the Ministry together on days that Harry didn’t have to work late. That way, people might draw their own inferences that the two were actually spending more evenings together than what they were privy to. 

Once they’d agreed to the technical terms, Daphne felt the nagging of one last topic she felt they needed to have an open conversation about. “Maybe we should, uh, take some time and talk about what we’re each comfortable with--” she paused, swallowing. “Physically…”

Harry shifted back and forth in his swing, his back straightening. “Yes, I think that would be good.” 

Neither of them looked at each other. Both simply sat there in intense silence, with only the screeching of the swings moving back and forth cutting awkwardly through their discomfort. 

“I was--”

“Do you--”

They each looked towards each other, eyes connecting, and had mirrored panic in their eyes. They looked away just as quickly before returning to silence. 

Harry cleared his throat. “I want you to be comfortable with whatever we do so I’m open to whatever you are okay with.” 

Daphne contemplated for another moment. “I’m okay with hand holding, hugging, the basic displays of affection. I’m...hesitant that we won’t be able to evade situations in which we might have to kiss again.” She took a moment to breath deep, feeling her nerves starting to build. “I’d be okay with it, but it would have to be in the right scenario.” 

“Maybe we could have a signal?”

Daphne tried to resist a chuckle at the suggestion. Thinking of a scenario where if the moment felt worthy of a kiss, one of them would perhaps awkwardly tug their ear or scratch the right side of their nose or something. Yes, maybe that would work, as ridiculous as it sounds. 

“We could do something like that; we could consider it a silent consensual request,” Daphne replied. “What were you thinking?” 

Unfortunately, after a while neither of them could think of anything beyond tugging their ear or scratching their nose. At one point, Harry had suggested tugging their hair. Daphne astutely relayed that from her brief observation there was no way that would work as he constantly ran his hand through his hair when he was nervous, she’d never be able to tell the difference. Harry appeared to be in denial about this observation. The next time that he almost did it, he paused, his arm in mid reach before non-discreetly lowering it back to his side. Daphne gave him a knowing smile to which she noticed he returned with a slight raise of his own lips. 

“How will it all end?” Daphne asked. “You can’t very well get back together with your ex if we’re still together.” 

“We could keep things up until Christmas.” He offered. “I know that you’re giving up your freedom to help me. Ginny always comes home for Christmas.”

Daphne pondered. “Four months. We could break up just before the holiday. That will give you the opportunity to reconnect with her.” 

“Even if things don’t progress as they should, or if she doesn’t reciprocate, we can still call it. I won’t ask more of you.” 

Harry’s terms of release from their agreement were amenable to her. 

“It’s a deal.” She grasped the chains the stead the swing as she stood. “Well, I should be going.”

Together they walked to the nearest apparition point and said their goodbyes. Daphne was grateful for an afternoon in the conservatory while she prepared herself for the upcoming week at the Ministry. 

* * *

That Monday, she had just wrapped up an all day training and was headed back to her desk when _ he _ made his appearance. Her heart stopped right along with her feet as her desk came back into view. Chair back, legs crossed, hands fidgeting with quills and other knick knacks on her desk, Blaise sat there waiting for her return. She didn’t have a chance to take him in a few days ago. It’d only been a few months since they broke up, however, he carried himself differently. Dawned in pristine robes, he looked more a man than the boy she dated. 

Still petrified in place, Daphne felt a knot form in her throat when he suddenly looked up and locked eyes with her. The unexpected nature of his visit made it nearly impossible for her to quickly cover the surprised look on her face. Likewise, his mouth fell open slightly before closing again, as if shocked to see her there despite the fact that he was waiting for her. 

After a few more beats she blinked, refusing to meet his eyes when she reopened them. She readjusted her bag on her arm and her feet began to move forward. 

He stood from her chair to meet her. 

“Daphne,” was all he said in greeting. 

She didn’t think it was possible for her body to still further. His voice still resurfaced instincts in her that her mind was fighting against. Glancing around, her heart rate increased when she saw lingering eyes and lips forming inaudible whispers. 

“What do you need, Blaise?” She moved around him to step in front of her desk, he turned with her. 

Eyebrow quirked, “You sent me a letter, remember?” 

She unconsciously shuffled through papers on her desk. “Now is really not a good time or place.” 

“When would be?”

Blaise had always been stubborn. It was unlikely that she’d be able to very easily rebuff him. As discreet as possible, she glanced back around the room to survey the eavesdroppers. This wouldn’t do; her desk was too public. 

She had him follow her into a vacant conference room. One with floor to ceiling windows. The spectators could question his visit, even if it appeared to be a quarrel, but at least a room with windows would counteract any rumors of anything more scandalous occurring. Closing the door, she turned to him, she opened her mouth to speak but he interjected. 

“Daphne,” he started in a familiar voice that carried the intimacy she used to hear from him in their relationship. “Are you doing okay? Since things ended between us.” 

Her mouth was agape. That…hadn’t been what she was expecting. 

“O-of course I am. I don’t know why you’d think otherwise.” 

“Really? I get a letter from you, declaring your affections--” 

She cringed, recalling the embarrassingly pining emotions contained in his. 

“--I show up at the Ministry only to find you snogging Harry Potter. I think it’s a very normal reaction for me to wonder if you’re alright.”

She didn’t know what to say and so she didn’t say anything. 

“Did you plan it?” He asked when she failed to respond. 

“No, and I don’t appreciate you insinuating that I’d stage a scene like that all because of you.” 

“You’re really dating him, then?” 

Daphne stood straighter, tightening the fold of her arms against her chest. “I am.” 

“So, where does my letter stand in all of this?” 

“It doesn’t mean anything. It was simply a misunderstanding. You were never meant to get that letter; I wrote it years ago.” 

Blaise’s gaze narrowed, they stood across from each other. Daphne was straight with her arms crossed, and Blaise was sitting casually on the table. His gaze remained hard on her, clear skepticism as he tried to break her resolve. 

He broke away from her, shaking his head. “Him? Of all people…” 

She felt a fire light inside of her. “You have no place to be put out by who I choose to move on with. You made it perfectly clear what our relationship meant to you. It was your decision to end things, not mine.”

“Is it a rebound?”

“No.”

“Is it serious?” 

She pinched the bridge of her nose. “I don’t know what point you’re trying to get to. I’m dating Harry. It’s of no concern to you and if you can’t deal with it, that’s not my problem.” 

Blaise didn’t respond. He sucked in a tight breath before standing up. He looked back at her and just as he’d opened his mouth to say something, the door opened. 

Jumping slightly, she looked towards the doorway to see Harry.

“Daphne,” He only briefly glanced towards Blaise before gesturing towards out the doorway. “Uh, are you ready to go?” 

She swallowed, looking back towards Blaise who had the nerve to look wounded. Turning back to Harry, she nodded in affirmation. With a subsequent nod towards Blaise to signal their conversation was over, Harry followed her out of the room and waited as she collected her things. Joining him to make their way towards the exit, she almost stopped mid-step when she felt his hand grab hers. A light layer of sweat seemed to have formed on his palm. He awkwardly squeezed her hand. Looking up at him in surprise, he only briefly met her eye, extending a comforting smile before looking ahead and leading them away. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm incredibly thankful for iforgottocall who helped me with this chapter! 
> 
> I appreciate every kudo, comment, subscribe, and bookmark - thank you! I hope you enjoyed the update!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to iforgottocall for her feedback and edits on this chapter!!

Blaise’s abrupt appearance at the Ministry was only the first of many awkward exchanges with others in response to Harry and Daphne’s relationship. Ron, who had been away from London on assignment, joined them for a lunch that Harry arranged when his friend returned. 

Harry hadn’t been completely forthcoming with Daphne when describing his friend’s reaction to the news. As it turned out, Ron still had a rather rash personality and ‘shocked’ manifested itself differently for him than it did for Hermione. He was not very supportive given his hope that Harry might still work things out with his sister, but Harry thought the shared meal together might help change his opinion. 

Daphne resisted the urge to let her body shrink into her chair under the red head’s pointed gaze. However, she couldn’t help the crossing and recrossing her legs throughout the uncomfortable lunch. When her polite overtures were met with short responses, Daphne decided to finish the luncheon out as a spectator, while cycling possible exit plans through her head. Thankfully, Harry noticed on his own and extended her apologetic looks.

After, he promised that he would work on smoothing things out with him. “Don’t worry. I’ll talk to him. He’ll eventually warm up to the idea.” 

Daphne was grateful for that. Not that it really mattered in the end whether Ron Weasley warmed up to her or not. However, the fewer tensions they had to field, the better. 

Then there was the day when Tracey wandered down to her office asking for a formal introduction to Harry. 

"We went to school with him…" Daphne protested incredulously.

"Yes, but I've never met him as _your_ boyfriend," Tracey insisted. 

She was eventually able to shoo her away under the argument that Harry's availability during the day was unpredictable. Before leaving though, Tracey made her promise to arrange for a social gathering soon so everyone could 'meet' him. 

“I honestly don’t know how you do it,” Daphne shared during one of their end of day walks to the fireplaces. Harry chuckled at her statement. Every day they were ogled at by others. She hoped it was because things were still relatively new. “Do you think people will calm down?” 

“Uhh…” was the only response that Harry seemed to be able to mutter as he appeared to struggle for an appropriate response to her question. The lack of an answer told her that it was unlikely that things would get better, meaning constant attention would be a permanent fixture during the course of their arrangement. 

December, she reminded herself. She could handle this until then. 

* * *

“So, you and Potter are official, then? Did that kiss spark something?” Draco sat across from her, once again they were in the almost always vacant break room. 

Daphne shot him a stale look. 

They were eating lunch together after Harry cancelled because a last minute training assignment came up. An interoffice memo had arrived at her desk to let her know, clearly scribbled quickly. She was grateful that Harry was considerate in his communication. It was one additional item that she added to her running mental list of attributes she was learning about him. 

She put out multiple notes, to which Draco had been the one free to join her. She’d been tempted to cancel her invitation after he abused multiple interoffice memos to tease her about what happened to lunch with her ‘boyfriend.’ She’d wished that Tracey hadn’t declined. 

“Shut it,” she murmured through her next bite of food when she realized she hadn’t actually responded to him. Draco gave her a scandalized look in response 

“Manners?” He said in a sarcastically admonishing tone. An eye roll was the only reply she gave him. “Horrible table manners aside, there is one thing I still don’t understand. You never told me what was in it for him.” 

She hesitated with what to say knowing that Harry had concerns about Draco but she had confidence she could trust her friend. Perhaps at the end of this Harry would walk away with a slightly elevated impression of Draco. Merlin knew Draco could use the lift after the war. 

“He gets to make his ex-girlfriend jealous,” Daphne finally responded.

“Never thought you of all people would let Potter use you to get back at a Weasley.” Draco’s words cut through her. It wasn’t stated with outright judgement, but it tempted her to defend Harry’s character. “I really don’t think that Blaise is worth lowering yourself to be used like this.” 

A loud clatter sounded as she let down her silverware fall against the table. “It doesn’t matter what you think. In my opinion, it’s all fair because it was my decision to partake in it. I wouldn’t say I’ve lowered myself at all. Harry has his reasons and I have mine. He’s also been perfectly reasonable in his expectations. We agreed that this would be done by December, if not sooner.”

Draco ceased eating his meal as well, albeit in a much calmer manner and giving her his full attention. “I’m worried...that you don’t think this situation could become more complicated.” 

She regarded him tentatively, curious about what he would say next. “More often than not, people fall for Potter’s ‘charms’-whatever those might be-or maybe his status. I’ve really never figured it out.” 

She sighed, trying to push out the frustration that Draco had rattled up in her. “I don’t think there’s anything to be concerned about.” 

Draco responded by lifting one of his brows at her, looking at her as if trying to pull something out of her that he was convinced was there. 

“I don’t!” Daphne once again protested. 

“You’re forgetting that you fell for him once. In fact, that’s directly connected to how you even ended up in this situation in the first place.” 

Daphne knew that he was referring to her letter. “Stop, Draco. I was fourteen years old. Harry and I are both adults. All of this is challenging enough as it is, I don’t need you adding your baggage with him to it.” 

Silence passed between the two of them. Daphne could tell from the amount of time Draco needed to process her words that he still had concerns. “Just be careful,” was the last that was said on the topic before they shifted their conversation elsewhere. 

After returning to her desk she was still unsettled by Draco’s words. Reminding herself that this was Draco, and it was in his nature to push buttons, she reassured her mind that there was no reason to believe that her and Harry couldn’t manage this situation in a mature way. Nothing. There was nothing to worry about. 

* * *

Their first ‘real’ date was on a Friday evening. Neither of them were in the mood to do anything fancy so they chose an activity that was more low key. 

“Did you have anything in mind?” Harry asked as they stood in front of one of the Ministry fireplaces. 

Daphne shrugged her shoulders in indifference before pulling the first idea that formed in her mind. “I like ice cream. Going to Fortescue’s is one of my sister and I's favorite things to do.” 

Her chest felt heavy as she mentioned Astoria, recalling the times when they would make trips to Diagon together, shopping until their feet were sore and closing out their day with ice cream. She pushed the thought aside. Astoria and her hadn’t communicated at all and Daphne imagined they were engaged in an unspoken standstill and there was no telling who would break first. 

It took nothing at all for Harry to agree to the suggestion. Daphne tried to convince him that they could meet there but he insisted on picking her up from her house. It wasn’t until she’d spent a solid 20 minutes standing to the side while Harry and her father chatted on about Quidditch and work, that she understood the ulterior motive for picking her up. Harry seemed to really enjoy spending time with her father. 

The fluttering in her stomach felt as though it were fighting against a heavy weight. As she thought about the future, she knew that it was one of her greatest wishes that her future husband would get along well with her father. William Greengrass had never been very fond of Blaise and perhaps that was the first clue. But Harry wasn’t really her boyfriend and as much as the butterflies in her stomach flailed as he and her father finalized plans for a match that weekend in their family box, her gut was also trying to remind her of reality. 

“I’m sure Harry Potter can do better than our family’s box.” Daphne teased as they made their way to the apparition point outside of the front gate. 

If she wasn’t mistaken she saw the slightest bit of pink creep across Harry’s cheeks. “I’ve uh, received my share of open invitations from team owners to join them for matches.” He turned towards her. “Watching with your father seemed more appealing though; plus he seemed excited to host me.” With that, Harry extended his hand towards her and once she’d firmly grasped his, they disappeared with a pop. 

* * *

The crowd at Fortescue’s was still rather sparse when they arrived despite the hour. They settled in at a table where there was still some space from other occupants. As they ate, their conversation initially started out by discussing school, such as their favorite classes and professors. 

“How have you liked being out of school?” Daphne asked as she scooped another bite of her Strawberry-Peanut Butter ice cream. 

Harry was across from her sitting behind a decently sized ice cream sundae. “It’s so much better. Hogwarts was home in almost every way but the actual studying part wasn’t always my favorite.” 

Daphne stilled midbite. She could absolutely relate to Harry on that point. “You must have jumped when Kingsley announced his proposal.” 

“Yeah, after Ginny wanted space, it seemed natural to take the offer. My friends would have really been the main motivation to go back.” 

Daphne listened as Harry went into describing what Auror training had been like so far, while she shared about her own position, lamenting about the lack of development training. “Everything has been task oriented so far. I figure I’ll have to do my own learning if I hope to move up…” 

As their topics shifted, Harry appeared shocked when she suddenly started spouting off Quidditch statistics regarding the players of Puddlemere United when conversation drifted back to weekend plans with her father. Catching a drip of ice cream before it dropped out of his mouth, Harry sheepishly looked away from her. She couldn’t help the smug smile that creeped across her face at the sight. The boys in her house were annoyingly loud at times, but she paid attention once when they had prattled on about how attractive it was when a girl was knowledgeable about Quidditch. She’d unfortunately confirmed this theory multiple times with boys over the years. 

“Your father said you didn’t like Quidditch…” Harry stuttered. 

She shrugged her shoulders. “Who says I need to like the sport to know about it?” 

“You must have incredible discipline to know the save average of a Keeper and catch rate of a Seeker.” Harry was prodding her. 

She wasn’t an expert by any means in the sport, but when she’d started dating Blaise she wanted to relate to his interests better. The more she followed it, the more she developed her own interests and preferences in the sport. “Alright. I do enjoy Quidditch. It’s grown on me over the years even if I haven’t been outspoken about it.” 

She paused a moment, preparing herself to test a theory. “So, what’s your favorite team?” 

Harry tilted his head to the side, eyebrows squished together as he assessed her. She couldn’t help the satisfied smirk that pulled at her lips as she watched him understand that she’d figured him out. A soft chuckle fell from his lips. “How did you know I wasn’t a Puddlemere fan?”

She shrugged her shoulders. “You sounded like a novice if you really were a fan. When you talk to my dad, you’re always scraping the surface without getting into the details.” Daphne stared into the crowd in reflection. “I haven’t figured out yet if my father can tell you're not really a fan or if he’s still so smitten that he’s overlooking it.” 

“Kenmare Kestrals,” Harry muttered into the last few bites of his sundae. 

“What was that?” She said, pretending to have not heard him. 

“My favorite team is the Kenmare Kestrals.” 

“I’m surprised really. Aiden Kiely isn’t even that good. I thought you’d go for a team that at least had a decent seeker.” 

Harry dropped his spoon into the empty cup. “They might not be the top team but they are always ranked strong.” He said back in his chair. “What’s yours?” 

Her lips pressed tight. “Brighton United.”

Harry’s eyes widened. “You’re kidding. They haven’t won anything.” 

“Well, of course they haven't. They’re a young team!” Daphne ardently defended. “And they’ve shown more promise in the few years since they joined the British and Irish Quidditch League, than most teams have shown who have been around forever.” 

She could tell looking across at Harry that he obviously disagreed with her but was enjoying her argument. The smile on his face was playful and she couldn’t help but mirror his demeanor. “Besides, I can guarantee you that Remy Williams is going to have one of the most promising careers as a Chaser. You just watch.” 

“I cannot disagree with that.” Harry placated, still carrying his amusement. “Brighton is playing Puddlemere this weekend. United against United. Why aren’t you coming with us?” 

“Because my father would give me just about the same reaction as you’re giving me now,” Daphne joked, “It should really just be you two. My father deserves a boys outing. He doesn’t escape the house nearly as much as he should.”

As their ‘date’ came to a close, they shared a few more laughs and Harry couldn’t help but make a few more lighthearted ribs about her Quidditch preferences. 

The crack of a bulb captured their attention. A photographer, perhaps from the Prophet or Witch Weekly had caught them. They’d long since finished their ice cream and found it to be as good a time as any to call it an evening. Harry politely escorted her towards the Leaky Cauldron. “I think the photographer is still following us.” Harry whispered as they walked down the alley. 

This time, Daphne decided to be the one to slide her hand into his. When she’d looked up towards him, her eyes went wide as she saw Harry’s softened eyes look down on her. Harry’s hand grasped her hand tighter and it sent her heart into a frenzy. The thought crossed her mind that he might kiss her, but she could no longer recall what they’d agreed on as their sign. She kept staring back at him, unsure what he was going to do-unsure what she _wanted_ him to do. 

As he leaned closer, she felt her breathing increase tenfold along with her heart rate. Operating off of instinct, her eyes drifted shut. And just when she thought his lips were about to connect with hers, she felt a brush of his lips against her cheek. When she’d opened her eyes again, Harry had straightened himself, a wide smile across his face. “Figured we should give him a show, right?” 

She felt her whole body sober at his words. An embarrassing laugh falling from her mouth and she suddenly felt the urge to find the nearest fireplace and disappear as quickly as possible. 

* * *

The following Saturday, she didn’t see Harry when he’d arrived to meet her father for the match. It was a bit of a relief. Over the past week, she couldn’t help but be just a bit jumpier whenever she’d see him. Despite the fact that Harry hadn’t noticed, she was having a hard time shaking her body’s reaction when he’d innocently kissed her cheek. In an effort to expel the residual feelings, she spent the day with her mother tending to their plants. She couldn’t think of a better way to spend the day.

Since Daphne started at the Ministry, her mother had helped her carve out her own section of the conservatory to conduct some of her own planting trials. 

She worked into the evening, while her mother had excused herself for the day just before dinner. After cleaning up, she retired to their family library. She grabbed a few Herbology books and curled up with a blanket on a chair in front of the fireplace. 

Later, when she was nose deep into her book, the sound of a throat clearing caught her attention. She turned back towards the entrance to see Harry, dawned in a Puddlemere jersey and scarf. 

She smiled and shook her head at him. “Was the shirt really necessary?” 

“I came with only the scarf, which I borrowed from Oliver Wood. When we got there though your dad wanted to match so he bought me one despite my protests.” 

“That sounds like him, actually.” She appraised him as he sat down on an ottoman in front of her. “How was the match? Who won?” 

Harry merely stared at her and she couldn’t help but think he was drawing out the conclusion to tease her. “Puddlemere.” 

Daphne groaned. Her poor team. Hearing the result felt far more manageable to cope with than if she’d actually been there to witness it. 

“Hey, Brighton put up a good effort.” 

Daphne resisted the urge to stick her tongue out at him in jest. “I thought you would have gone home after.” 

“Your father invited me back for a drink. When I was ready to leave he asked if I wanted to see you.” She could hear the nerves in Harry’s voice, as if he’d messed up. 

Daphne chuckled. “I doubt he thought anything of it. We’re still getting used to ‘this.’” She gestured a hand back and forth between the two of them.

“Yes, it’s different. What are you reading?” 

“A book on Regerminating Potions.” 

“Oh, Tilden Toots, right?” 

Daphne’s eyes widened. All she did was nod in confirmation. 

“Neville references him quite a bit. Likes his radio program.”

“I like it too,” Daphne said in recovery. 

Harry reached out in request to look at her book and she handed it to him. He glanced at the back and the table of contents. “What brought on the interest in this?” 

She felt a smile tug at her lips. “I found it over the summer, working with my mother. I liked getting my hands dirty and found a lot of peace in the process. It kept me preoccupied when I needed it. It’s funny because I could have cared less about Herbology in school.” 

“I know what you mean. It’s interesting how life ends up showing you things that you wouldn’t have thought of for yourself. When I was growing up, I wasn’t interested in being a police officer.” 

Daphne frowned. 

“It’s like a Muggle Auror. Kind of. But probably less exciting,” he clarified. “It wasn’t until I experienced...everything, that I realized being an Auror was what I wanted to do.” 

“I was always curious if you’d just gravitated towards it. Given your history.” 

“I knew at Hogwarts I wanted to be an Auror, but there was a time right after the war that I reconsidered getting a job with a bit less adventure. I didn’t think I could make a difference though in anything else I thought of. Guess I can’t escape the pull to fight whatever else is out there lurking in the dark.” 

Daphne regarded him for a few moments. “Harry Potter...you’ll always be saving the world.” 

Harry dipped his chin down and his humility once again struck her.

Daphne transitioned them to another topic and the two of them talked a bit longer. Harry told her more about attending the match with her father and the highlights of the unfortunate loss that her team suffered. She was amused to think her parents were somewhere in the house as well talking about the same thing. Her father was without a doubt relaying victorious sentiments to her mother. 

They walked together to the fireplace. 

“Would you mind? If your father and I did this again,” Harry asked. 

She felt uneasy for a moment, thinking about the potential of her parents to get really attached to him. It concerned her when she thought of the consequences her ruse would have when she and Harry ended their charade, but she was even more fearful of what would happen if anyone found out about the arrangement. How would her parents feel about her deception? 

“I suppose it’s fine,” she relayed, caving when realized that Harry enjoyed the relationship as much as her father appeared to. “Just be careful...please.” 

“Of course,” Harry replied with understanding. 

He stepped towards the fireplace, before abruptly turning back. “Oh, wait. I was planning to give this to you at work, but since I stuck around..." He dug his hand into his pocket. He pulled out something that fit in his palm, before casting a spell to enlarge it. 

Daphne laughed as soon as she registered what it was. “You didn’t?”

“You said that you liked Williams,” extending the figurine to her. "Though I won't lie it took a bit to find the corner where they'd stuck the visiting team's souvenir booth." 

A grinned stretched across her face, she reached out to receive it, “Thank you.” 

Harry nodded with a smile, apparently pleased with her reaction. 

A strange feeling crossed through Daphne. A tug in her chest hit her once Harry disappeared through the fireplace. The unshakable burden persisted as she prepared herself for bed. As she laid down willing for sleep she took inventory of her day trying to identify the source of what unsettled her. It was when she turned to her nightstand and rested her eyes on the Quidditch figurine that she suddenly felt something soft unfold in her heart, like a flower unfurling into a full bloom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I am very appreciative of every comment, kudo, and bookmark!


	5. Chapter 5

As their dates and walks continued over the next month, Daphne couldn’t help but feel more connected to Harry’s company. Despite his awkward quirks, he was an interesting person. Certainly a humbler personality than what public perception had created of him in school. It surprised her that he was not more closed off regarding his past, but he had been forthcoming to share his experiences and about the losses he’d suffered. 

Her attraction to Harry only grew as they spent time together. She’d paid more attention to different quirks or expressions that she’d become more aware of as he also grew comfortable around her. 

She could tell when his days were long because of training or assignments versus the days that he spent in the office working on paperwork. She couldn’t help but want to extend him something on the days when his face was long and he appeared exhausted. During one of their dates, Harry had dropped into their conversation that his favorite sweet was a Chocolate Frog, and that he collected the cards. It prompted her to begin storing a supply of Chocolate Frogs in her desk to offer him. His face would almost immediately perk up as he took it from her, likewise she always had this unplaceable feeling coursing through her whenever she’d see him uplifted. That feeling was rather annoying, like when she’d forgotten something and she couldn’t summon the memory. 

In turn, he seemed to be able to tell something similar for her when she had her rough days. She could swear on her rough days were the ones when Harry would choose to grab her hand and give her an extra squeeze of encouragement. 

October 18th was Daphne’s birthday and she was looking forward to what her family had planned to celebrate. Knowing how much she enjoyed her special day, her parents would often make special trips to Hogsmeade on the weekend to be with her. This year though she was more excited for the occasion since she’d finally have the opportunity to be home with them. 

That morning, she’d taken extra time to pick out one of her favorite casual outfits. The wide smile that stretched across her face quickly dissipated as she’d joined her parents for breakfast. No one brought it up. Regular looks over at her parents as she ate her breakfast told her they may have forgotten. It wasn’t like them though to forget. 

“I’m 19 today,” she finally inserted as her parents were about to excuse themselves. 

Her father, who had been halfway out of his chair, only responded, “Are you really? Time flies. Happy Birthday, dear.” Her shoulders slumped at her father’s passive well wishes just before he left the dining room. Her mother followed suit with similar sentiments; said she’d have the house elves make her favorite before disappearing. Sitting back in her chair, Daphne couldn’t believe what this day was becoming. She’d just been left alone in the dining room to wallow in self-pity that her parents had neglected the day she looked forward to every year. 

Throughout the day she received owls from her friends with birthday wishes. Tracey, Pansy, Draco, all sent something, and even _Blaise_ had written her a short note. An owl from Astoria was notably missing, which disappointed her even more than her parents forgetting. While she’d hoped this might be an occasion where her sister would come around, she shouldn’t have been surprised considering from last correspondence it was clear Daphne had been upset with her as well.

Daphne caught her tongue that evening when the dinner that appeared before her was certainly not her favorite dinner, but Astoria’s. She wasn’t sure what had gotten into her parents this year, but rather than confront them on it she chose to internally stew over it. Perhaps tomorrow she would say something and, as tactfully as possible, request that they pull it together for her 20th next year. 

* * *

Daphne was in a foul mood about her birthday when she arrived at the Ministry the next morning. When she made it to her desk, there was a mound of paperwork that had come in over the weekend. She was deep into processing them when Harry arrived, otherwise she would have been more welcoming. 

She frowned, noting that he was carrying files. “Please tell me those are not additional cases for intake.” 

Harry lifted his hand to rub the back of his neck. “They are, unfortunately.” 

She sighed before gesturing towards the rest of the pile where he could place the new additions. She continued to scribble away on the pages. 

He cleared his throat, “I brought over the files because I wanted to see if you had a minute.” 

Her quill stilled as she realized it was out of the ordinary for him to drop them off. A surge of guilt crossed through as she thought about how aloof she probably seemed towards him. She took a breath to reset herself, knowing that Harry certainly didn’t deserve to have to deal with the emotions that carried over from her birthday. 

She looked up and readjusted herself in her chair to show him that he had her full attention. “I’m sorry, Harry. What’s going on?” 

Harry shifted uncomfortably, “Your mother owled me.” 

Her shoulders tensed immediately, her hands unconsciously grasping the arms of her chair. 

“What did she want?” 

“Nothing concerning,” Harry lifted his hands to reassure her, “She wrote me to ask if I would join the three of you for dinner tonight.” 

A pang of something--jealousy, or resentment, perhaps--ran through her as she thought of her mother planning a dinner with Harry but completely neglecting celebrating her own daughter’s birthday. Again, centering herself, Daphne forced herself to remember that anything related to Harry was a product of her own doing. 

“Did she say anything else or did she just ask about dinner?” Her fingers lined the sides of the folder she had open in front of her as a distraction. However, the fidgeting caused her to miss his abnormal pause before he answered as well as the slight alarm in his reply. 

“No, no, she didn’t mention anything else. Only dinner,” Harry’s fingers had started tapping the edge of her desk, “I would guess they want to get to know me better.” 

If her mother’s only motive was to get to know Harry, then she supposed there should be no concern with him coming over--that is, unless he was not comfortable attending. “Are you okay with joining us?” 

“Of course. I just wanted to check with you before I replied. You know…” his voice lowered, “A rule--no dropping by the other’s house uninvited.” 

How could she have forgotten? It was her own rule. “Good, I’m okay with it. But know that there’s no pressure from me.” It was good that they were on the same page when it came to anything that involved their family or friends, especially since her parents appeared to be captivated by him. 

When Harry kept standing there, she felt compelled to say more. “I think it makes sense...to have you come over. I know that my father enjoyed the Quidditch match the two of you attended. I shouldn’t be surprised that they’d want to have you over again. It’s a normal part of any relationship, right? Spending time with your girlfriend’s parents.” 

“Brilliant. I’ll plan to be there tonight,” He stated with a final, affirmative tap against her desk, “I hope the rest of your day goes well, Daphne. Sorry, I had to add to your workload.” 

She smiled in appreciation. “I’ll get through it. Have a good rest of your day as well.” 

He smiled at her in return as he left. Strangely, the sight made her feel uplifted despite the gloomy morning. 

* * *

Later that afternoon, Harry sent her a message that he was leaving work early to take care of a few things before dinner that evening. It felt strange, walking to the lifts solo. Harry hadn’t been away often and walking together was routine now. Something felt amiss now that he was not by her side. 

Arriving home, she sought out her mother to see if anything was needed before Harry arrived. When she found her mother in the dining room, her bag almost slipped from her fingers. The dining hall was tastefully decorated with a reasonable amount of balloons and streamers in her favorite colors. 

Her mother was directing the house elves as they hung a banner that read, ‘Happy Birthday.’ A slight gasp fell from her lips as her mouth dropped open in shock. 

At the sound, her mother turned in Daphne’s direction. “Daphne! Surprise!” She was then enveloped into her mothers arms. “Bet you thought we had really forgotten the occasion, didn’t you?” Her mother muttered the words into her ear just before she took a step back. 

It was all a ruse. The realization just further made Daphne feel as though she’d been on a rollercoaster over the past day. Wanting to respond, but uncertain what to say, Daphne just stood there opening and closing her mouth a few times. 

“You’ll have to forgive your father and I for having our fun, but we really wanted to do something memorable since it’s the first year we’ve had you back for your special day.” 

Memorable, Daphne supposed was one way to describe it. Still having a hard time figuring out what to say, but appreciative of her parents' efforts, she pulled her mother in for another hug and thanked her. She felt herself sink further into her mother’s arms, relieved her parents had not actually forgotten her birthday. 

Feeling a pat on her back, her mother pulled back and grasped her shoulders. “Now, you should go and get changed. I imagine Harry will be here anytime.” 

Harry... _Harry_ was coming over for her surprise birthday dinner. 

“Mother, did you wrap him into this plan?”

Her mother, who had walked back over to supervise the elves, looked back over her shoulder quizzically. “Of course, dear. He was more than happy to go along with it. I was surprised the two of you hadn’t planned anything but then it made sense when he shared he had something for work yesterday. I wanted to surprise you last night but with his schedule we postponed it to tonight.” 

He had been shifty earlier, and she’d been too distracted to notice it. Harry had been involved in the whole thing. 

A crack suddenly sounded in the room and Wodby appeared. “Miss, Mr. Potter has arrived.” 

Dashing out the door, she wanted to reach Harry before anyone else could. When she ungracefully rushed into the room, he was standing just off the fireplace.

She was still panting to catch her breath from running into the room. “Y-you knew it was my birthday. You plotted this with my mother.” It came out much more accusatory that she had planned. 

Harry’s eyes widened. “Did I already miss the surprise?” 

She was shocked that’s what he was focused on. “Yes, mother already told me all about the plan. Why didn’t you mention it when I asked you earlier?” 

Harry softly smirked at her in amusement. “Because it was your birthday. Which you didn’t tell me about, by the way. I wasn’t going to ruin the surprise.” 

“It’s just,” Daphne started. “I didn’t tell you because I didn’t think you’d actually need to know...” 

Harry jumped back in. “Daphne, I’m sorry, let’s take a step back. Happy Birthday. It’s really okay you didn’t tell me but I’m glad that I get to join your family celebrating.” 

She felt a rush through her that she couldn’t place but she quickly cast it aside. Harry was always so sweet and genuine. 

“Did they know that I didn’t tell you?” She asked.

“No, don’t worry. It was all over letters. When she wrote me last week there was no indication that I didn’t know about it.”

She felt relieved at that, not having anticipated her mothers scheming. “Okay, good. You should know that I love to celebrate my birthday. I was really put out when they brushed it off yesterday, hence my terrible attitude earlier. It would seem odd to my parents if I hadn’t told you.” 

Harry nodded. “It’ll be fine. I think we can get through the evening.” 

Appreciating his reassurance, she stood straight and readied herself. She led him down the hall towards the dining room. When they were outside the entrance, she excused herself to go and change. As she made her way to her room, she could faintly hear her father welcoming Harry and a pleased smile formed on her lips. 

Returning to the dining room, her parents and Harry were now seated and waiting for her. Taking in the room, the decorations were lovelier than she’d recalled from earlier; she hadn’t stopped to appreciate them amidst her shock. As she walked towards her place setting, Harry stood to hold her chair out for her. Looking at him amused, she noted his face was slightly flushed as he helped her.

The evening’s meal was an assortment of her favorite foods and to her amazement, she quickly learned that Harry liked them as well. 

“So, Harry,” her father started. “Was Daphne disappointed that you two didn’t do anything for her birthday?” 

A loud clink echoed in the room as Daphne’s spoon hit her plate. She internally chastised herself for not telling Harry about her birthday. At the time, she hadn’t wanted to burden him with it considering they weren’t actually together. She should have at least arranged to send herself a flower arrangement or an obnoxiously sized plush niffler or a pygmy puff. Something to be delivered that she could have played off as a gift from him. 

Harry’s laughter broke through her string of concern. “I think she was a bit,” he replied and Daphne felt her cheeks flush. “Even though I had to work, she did seem a bit cross with me this morning.” 

Her father chuckled at the comment. “Now, Daphne’s been a good sport with all of us and our games. Despite that, I hope tonight is a lovely time for you, dear.” 

As the evening went on, she certainly did enjoy herself, and she was still captured by how well her parents got on with Harry. The dinner conversation began to enter alarming territory when her mother almost started telling him about embarrassing stories from when she was a child, to which she quickly shut down to Harry’s amusement. 

After dinner, the elves brought out an outrageous cake that would have served more than four people. It made her curious about what they might plan for her 20th if this was the extravagance created for turning 19. When her parents adjourned for the evening, Daphne’s father invited Harry to his study for a drink to which Harry politely declined. 

Momentarily disappointed, her father figured Harry’s decline meant that he wanted to spend time with the birthday girl. Knowing that wasn’t true, Daphne felt a squirm in her stomach, unsure of what to feel about the fact that Harry would be leaving soon. 

After bidding her parents goodnight, Daphne walked with Harry to see him out. 

“Any other plans this evening?” Harry asked, turning slightly towards her as they walked down the hall. 

She was taken aback by his question. “No, I don’t think so. My parents will probably have a nightcap before they go to bed so I might join them. Maybe read for awhile and then call it a night.” 

Harry hummed at her response. Glancing back down the hallway they’d just walked down and the back to her, “Would they miss you if you didn’t join them this evening?” 

Daphne, unsure of how to respond to that question, started and stopped answering a few times as she tried to decipher why he might be asking. “I, uh, suppose not. It’s not an obligation.” 

“Do you want to go out with me?”

Her heart stopped. Had she heard him correctly? That sounded an awful lot like he was asking her on a date. “Umm… I…”

“Sorry, I should have worded that differently. Let me take you out for your birthday. Just as friends. I know your parents had their own agenda to surprise you for your birthday but I’d like the opportunity to help you celebrate.” 

She contemplated the offer. The excitement that was stirring in response to his offer felt odd. It was incredibly kind of Harry to offer to take her out. Still, she hesitated, having no idea what he was envisioning.

“It’s already late. I mean, we both have work-”

“We’ll be fine.” Harry interjected as he shrugged his shoulders casually. Obviously not finding her excuse to be good enough. “Come on, I’ve had all evening to think of a few ideas of what we could do.” 

Her heart felt heavy, not wanting to complicate anything. As she looked up into his hopeful eyes though, she knew the next word that came from her mouth poured straight from her heart and not her head. 

“Okay.” 

* * *

Daphne didn’t know why she was in such a fit of nerves. It started when Harry sent her to change into something nicer until they arrived at a beautiful restaurant in Diagon. She kept reminding herself that this was not an actual date. It was a friend, taking another friend out for their birthday. 

Considering how late it was, she hadn’t even considered that they could get into such a nice place. However, what she continually forgot was that the boy she found herself in a fake relationship with was currently the most famous wizard in the country. He probably could just walk into any restaurant like this and get a table. 

The hostess led them to an intimate table setting just off of the dance floor. A bouquet of flowers was laid across her seat. Daphne was impressed this could have all been arranged on the fly. She turned back towards Harry as he helped her into her seat for the second time that night. The thought crossed her mind that everyone here might start to get the wrong idea before she blushed at the ridiculousness of the statement. They’d never gone somewhere so fancy before and this felt more real. 

“Harry-” He must have been able to sense the concern in her voice. 

“Have to play the part of the boyfriend, right? Don’t worry about it, it’s your birthday” He whispered lightly in her ear, clearly sensing her astonishment at the lengths he was currently going. 

They both settled into their places, reviewing the dessert menu while their waiter poured them each a glass of wine. 

She couldn’t help but laugh, “I honestly never would have thought this would be the type of place you’d like to come.” 

“I don’t, really. But since the end of the war, I’ve found myself in far more establishments like this as people have requested to meet with me.” 

They browsed their menus for a few moments before Daphne was able to easily convince Harry to share a dessert. Both of them were still rather full from dinner. The waiter came to take their order and it arrived speedily.

Daphne couldn’t help her wandering eyes towards the dance floor as they shared dessert--watching various couples dancing closely together, showing their affections towards one another. It was easy to become entranced by the sight. She tried everything not to imagine Harry and her dancing from fourth year--the awkward hand placement and the feeling of her hand in his sweaty palms. 

Every so often she’d catch Harry’s stare when she’d look back and she’d try to revert their conversation to a normal topic, hoping he might not feel pressure to ask her to dance. Everything he had arranged this evening was more than enough. She noticed Harry shift in his chair and set down his fork before leaning towards her. She watched him curiously as he appeared to be trying to say something; a hand running through his hair as he began to mutter. 

“I need to come clean.,” She swallowed her bite to give him her full attention, interested in what he wanted to tell her, “I didn't just plan everything this evening...I planned this after your mother wrote to me.” 

Her eyes widened at the admission. “I, um...don’t know what to say to that.” Not only did she not know what to say, but she also wasn’t sure what to think--she already hadn’t been sure what had inspired Harry to invite her out; it was all the more muddy to know that he’d been planning this display beyond this evening. There was a fluttering in her stomach that was refusing to be suppressed. 

He nervously bobbed his head, “I don’t think I’ve ever told you how thoughtful I think you are. It’s amazing the small details of our conversation that you recall. Sometimes, I can’t even remember when I shared them with you...” Her heart felt like it had ceased beating as he rambled on. “When your mother told me it was your birthday, I wanted to do something just as thoughtful for you.” 

“Thank you, Harry. You really didn’t need to. I also think your compliment is far more generous than the truth.” She shook her head, as if it would sort out all of the jumbled words running through her mind into something coherent. “You’re a really great ‘boyfriend.’ I hope that Ginny sees that. And that in the end, you can get what you want.” 

A sharp pain ran through her as her words acknowledged their reality, and for a moment she wasn’t sure what she really meant by them, as if there was a chance maybe Harry might want something--or someone--else in the end. 

They were both looking straight at each other. Harry had a sad smile on his face that she didn’t have the first clue as to interpret and she was certain her own expression displayed nothing but uncertainty. 

Thankfully, the waiter chose that moment to bring the check, putting an end to whatever troublesome territory they were heading towards. 

After they left the restaurant, they took a walk out into Muggle London and into a nearby park. It was almost completely cleared out considering how late it was. Daphne was thankful for it. It finally felt like an opportunity in public where she was finally able to breathe and not have to constantly worry about bustling and crowded streets of people that they had to perform for. 

The moment that Harry slipped his hand into hers, she jumped at the contact. She found herself quickly scanning their surroundings to see if somehow someone they knew had appeared. But it was only a moment later that he stopped, and halted her along with him. 

“What is it?” There hadn’t been anyone else, she was unsure what had inspired his peculiar action. 

His eyes were glued down towards his feet which were scraping against the stone walkway. 

“I noticed your interest in the dancing back at the restaurant,” He peered back up at her, as if it was taking all of his courage, “I recall, from our conversation in fourth year, that you enjoy dancing…” 

She felt a heat in her cheeks knowing that she wasn’t the only one of them thrown back into that memory. 

“Would you dance with me?” The question poured out abruptly from his mouth. 

Her eyes widened; the question completely unexpected. “Y-You want to dance with me? Here? In the middle of the park?” 

His eyes closed and she felt a slight pull of her arm as he took a step back. She suddenly regretted her reaction. The next words out of Harry’s mouth started backtracking on the suggestion. As she felt his hand start to loosen around hers, she quickly tightened her grasp. 

“Yes, I’ll dance with you.” It came out sounding far more desperate than she’d intended and she cringed slightly. 

He held her in another intense gaze before stepping a bit closer into her space. At first, it was the same awkward, stiff movements from childhood as they approached each other. Once her arms were wrapped around his neck, their embrace came together much more smoothly than it had four years ago. 

As they moved to a gentle sway, she felt far more comfortable in his arms than before. He held one hand on the small of her back and the other gently held hers. She was impressed that Harry had yet to step on her toes. Though there was no music playing, she couldn’t stop the smile forming on her lips as she started to hear the distant echo of the track McGonagall had played. 

Stepping with him back and forth, Daphne slowly forgot where they were. Only registering the feel of Harry’s arm around her and the proximity of his head to hers. She watched as his eyes suddenly drifted down towards her lips and she thought maybe her mind was playing tricks on her. Her heart was pounding so hard that she was worried he might be able to hear it. Just as his head inched closer towards hers, she felt a pain shoot through her foot and a mumbled apology quickly followed from him. 

Not only was she rattled by the almost kiss, but she felt an ache at the loss of his touch. He had stepped back from her, rubbing his hand against the back of his neck, recoiling and recovering from his literal misstep. 

Pushing aside her disappointment, when she met his eyes and noted his rose colored complexion, she could no longer help but giggle at how familiar the whole situation was. He eventually joined in with his own amusement as they acknowledged the abrupt end to their dance. He tilted his head in the direction of the way they came and they started making their way back towards the Leaky Cauldron. 

They did not resume holding hands and simply walked alongside one another. However, she didn’t want their evening to end in silence. 

“I’d say that you have vastly improved.” She offered, hoping he heard the humor in her voice. 

Another laugh came out of him and a moment later she felt his elbow gently meet her side in return. A smile stretched across her face and a heat rushed through her. At that moment, she knew her heart was in trouble. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm incredibly grateful for those of you following this story. I appreciate all kudos, comments and bookmarks! Many many thanks for iforgottocall and all of the help she gave me on this chapter. I hope that you are continuing to enjoy the story!


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